


Consequences

by TheDragon



Series: Kinkalot 2020 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Era, Desk Sex, Flowers, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragon/pseuds/TheDragon
Summary: The edge of the desk is unforgivingly solid against Merlin's hips. Being slammed against it hurts, but it’s a welcome pain, a pleasurable pain. The bruises that form will be a match to the ones Arthur's hands leave on his waist and the love bites he sucks into Merlin’s throat.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Kinkalot 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862782
Comments: 13
Kudos: 206
Collections: Kinkalot 2020





	Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this three weeks ago, but then life happened and I only just now got around to editing and posting it.
> 
> Written for the flowers prompt for Kinkalot Bingo!

The edge of the desk is unforgivingly solid against Merlin's hips. Being slammed against it hurts, but it’s a welcome pain, a _pleasurable_ pain. The bruises that form will be a match to the ones Arthur's hands leave on his waist and the love bites he sucks into Merlin’s throat.

Blood red roses, the night’s inspiration, litter the floor not a metre away from them. A few petals broke off when they fell to the floor, creating small splashes of colour against the drab stone flooring.

They were meant to be a joke. After the teasing comment Arthur made the previous week, having caught Merlin bringing flowers up to Morgana's chambers, Merlin wanted to get his own back. He went out into the gardens and cut the most beautiful, sweetest smelling flowers he could find.

Arthur sometimes calls him a simple-minded fool. And maybe, just maybe, as hesitant as Merlin is to admit it—there is a grain of truth to the statement. How could he not know what the roses symbolised? How could he not know that they were meant to represent true, undying, unwavering love?

When he caught sight of the roses, Arthur blushed a shade of red deeper than the petals of the blooms and, well...

...one thing led to another, and here Merlin is, being fucked over the crown prince's desk.

Merlin's fingers grapple at the edge of it when Arthur drives into him with another rough thrust, his cock mercilessly rubbing against Merlin's prostate. Merlin shoves back against him the best he can in his position, and is rewarded with Arthur pressing kisses to his temple, his cheek, the corner of his lips. They’re oddly sweet and gentle; a sharp contrast to the roughness of their coupling.

Arthur wraps his fingers around Merlin's aching cock and swallows the moan right out of Merlin's mouth. Swiping his thumb over the glans, Arthur spreads the precome over it before finally, _finally_ stroking Merlin's cock, setting a deliciously rough pace that has Merlin’s toes curling in his boots.

Merlin can't decide whether he should be thrusting back onto Arthur's cock or driving down into his hand. Both sensations are so good, so _incredible_ , sending tingles of pure pleasure racing up his spine now and making his head swirl.

He isn't granted the time to choose. With another hard thrust that has Merlin seeing stars, Arthur presses more of his body weight onto him, pinning Merlin to the lacquered wood. Effectively immobilised, Merlin groans in frustration. Arthur's thrusts are quicker now, rougher, his hand on Merlin's cock jerking at an unsteady rhythm; he must be nearing his release.

Merlin manages to unhook one hand from the edge of the desk and reaches back, twisting his fingers in Arthur's hair. He tugs, pulling Arthur's head down to capture his lips in a kiss. Arthur obliges, leaning down and taking Merlin's mouth. When Merlin opens his lips, Arthur pushes in deeper, licking his way inside. He slams into Merlin at an unforgiving pace, clashes his hips against Merlin's buttocks.

With a shudder, Arthur comes and collapses on top of Merlin. The wood presses uncomfortably against Merlin's hips, his stomach, chest, and face. He's on the verge of telling Arthur to get off of him when Arthur does just that. The removal of his cock from Merlin’s arse is followed by a slick stream of come mixed with oil; the sound of it, the _feel_ of it has Merlin feeling dirty, and he can’t stop blood from rushing to his cheeks. When Arthur also relinquishes his grip on Merlin's cock, he groans loudly, thrusting his hips forward in the hopes of finding something to rub up against.

Any protests he might have wanted to voice leaves his head when Arthur drops down to his knees and plants his face in Merlin's arse.

"Fuck!" Merlin shouts when Arthur starts licking around his rim, his tongue deliciously wet and warm. "People do that?!"

Arthur's chuckle reverberates over Merlin's skin, his stubble scratching at the sensitive insides of Merlin's thighs. The dual sensations send shivers racing up his spine.

"They do," Arthur confirms before diving back in, driving all thoughts from Merlin's head. He licks up the come and oil from where the mixture is dripping from Merlin's sore, used hole; slurps it all up greedily. When he thrusts two fingers up inside Merlin's arse to rub at his prostate, Merlin kicks out with his feet, groaning again when he realises his movements are restrained by the breeches around his ankles.

It doesn't take long for the pleasure to build up again, to have Merlin teetering on the verge of release, not with Arthur shoving his tongue inside Merlin's arse, eating him out like there's no tomorrow.

When Arthur's other hand wraps around his cock, tugging at it in synchronisation with the thrusts of his finger, Merlin is swamped by a wave of pleasure so fierce that it has his ears ringing. With one last, draw-out moan, he comes, staining Arthur's hand and the underside of the desk with his release.

His legs refusing to hold him up any longer, Merlin slides from the desk. Arthur catches him in his arms before he can hit the floor.

"That was..." Merlin trails off. He feels like he's floating, the sensation intensifying each time he closes his eyes. With a sigh, Merlin shuts his eyes and holds on as Arthur lifts him up off the cold stone floor and carries him over to the bed.

"Wonderful," Arthur says, finishing Merlin's sentence for him. Merlin can feel the imprint of a smile against his neck. "I was right all along. The flowers were a great idea."

Merlin huffs out a laugh. "'Course. They _were_ my idea, after all."

He absolutely deserves the pillow Arthur throws at his head.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic, come find me on [tumblr](https://lair-of-the-dragon.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
